Froth

Can you tell me how
how to steal this sound
take the voice so loud
and drown it out, out, out-
break the waves that cull the demons
sing the pleasure as you mean it
never wander far from home
unless you know not where you go
footsteps buried under snow
blackened feet and bloodied soul
know not where you ought to roam
foam at the mouth
know no moan
can you tell me how it’s done
or sell me back what I have won?

Under sheets

All the clutter in my head
noiseless sound and day old bread
can’t get up no sight or ground
my feet touching skyward bound
I am falling up not down
my words seem to make it loud
mouth is shut-they still persists
these words all out of context.
All this clutter in my head
I’d need three of me to send
just enough to breathe again
get these thoughts out of my bed.